


don't forget to breathe tonight

by FeatheredShadow



Category: Alexander (2004)
Genre: Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Hot Weather, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 13:31:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14770547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeatheredShadow/pseuds/FeatheredShadow
Summary: Being out of the Gedrosian desert didn't mean they were all out of harm.





	don't forget to breathe tonight

**Author's Note:**

> I had such a nice welcome for my first forray into the _Alexander_ fandom that I couldn't help but write some more. I hope you'll enjoy this little piece :)

**Salmous, autumn 325 b.c.**

It was just too hot. Cleitus turned violently in his bed, throwing the satin sheets away before huffing loudly. He soon regretted his fit of temper as more beads of sweat started rolling on his skin. Looking at the open windows in front of him, he rolled his eyes at the lack of wind – of _course_ there wouldn’t be any wind in Salmous, just when Alexander’s army had just come back from their march through the desert.

When it most needed it.

It would have been too nice, and if he had learned anything from his time at Alexander’s side, it was clearly that nice things weren’t for them. Not when they were so far away from home.

Stupid king and his stupid decisions to conquer all of the known world and beyond.

Sighing, he rolled on his side before sitting down, eyeing his chiton before finally making a decision. He doubted someone would dare to make a comment, if anyone ever noticed him walking through the empty corridors of the palace in the middle of the night, and even if they did, then so what? He was a general, by the gods, one of Alexander’s trusted Companions, and if he wanted to take a night stroll, he was damn well going to do it.

The corridors were quieter than he had expected them to be – which, in itself, wasn’t so surprising: people could only handle so much heat, overall. As if the troops hadn’t suffered enough, walking through the Gedrosian desert, they now had to face the worst heatwave of the season, in men’s memory. (Not that _they_ had had a _good_ time walking through Carmania, but it had been less worst, overall.)

His steps slowed down as he arrived near Hephaestion’s room and he frowned a little, noticing in surprise that Ptolemy was awkwardly standing in front of the door, the two guards seemingly asleep on their feet.

“Is there a problem?” he enquired quietly as he arrived next to his friend, watching with interest as Ptolemy jumped a little at his words, obviously not having noticed his arrival.

“Not really,” Ptolemy finally answered after a moment of silence. “It’s just… well, look at it yourself.”

He moved a little to the side and Cleitus took his place, peering through the door that wasn’t fully closed. His eyes were almost immediately attracted by the blond mane on Alexander’s head – and if it wasn’t a sight, seeing his king snoring on the bed of his favorite general, while said general wasn’t even in it.

Frowning a little, his curiosity growing quickly, he looked around the room before finally finding Hephaestion, that seemed to be asleep in a huge bath, with Philip the physician and a myriad of pages buzzing around him. He felt his eyebrows raise of their own accord at the scene, slightly surprised. That wasn’t a sight he was familiar with.

He stood back a little when he felt a hand on his back and let himself being guided a few steps, by some columns nearby that made it easy to hide in the shadows while still keeping a good look at who was coming in and out of the room.

“What’s going on? Has _he_ fallen ill?”

He wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of Amyntoros _ever_ – that honor went to their reckless king, thank you very much – but despite their continuous opposition, he knew the man’s worth – and that they would all be sorry for it if Alexander were to lose him.

Ptolemy grimaced a little at the question, looking around them to make sure no one was eavesdropping on their conversation before answering.

“ _Apparently_ , he fell sick on the way back from the Gedrosian desert –”

“Can’t say I’m surprised to hear that.”

“– _and_ ,” Ptolemy went on after frowning at him for having been interrupted, “he tried to hide it until his pages let something slip to Alexander’s pages and now Philip has been looking over him since the end of the day.”

Cleitus frowned a little.

“That explains why Alexander wasn’t at the feast, then,” he said slowly, remembering the rather surprising absence of the king.

He had put it to a desire to spend some time alone in his quarters, maybe even with his wife, to reconnect after such a long absence – and maybe beget an heir at the same time, which could only do the real some good – but if Hephaestion had been sick…

Well, they all knew who would take priority in Alexander’s attentions.

“Yes. He overheard the pages talking and has been there since… well, I think he arrived at the same time Philip did.”

“I’m surprised to see him sound asleep, then. You know how he gets, in that kind of situation…”

Which had been reason enough for a good laugh or two in their youth, once they were assured the situation wasn’t too grim or life-threatening.

A light suddenly appeared in Ptolemy’s eyes.

“Well, he really didn’t want to, but he got some help, if you know what I mean.”

Cleitus snorted a little.

“I have a hard time believing Alexander would have drunk that kind of mixture if he knew it would knock him out,” he pointed out, knowing full well his friend’s temperament.

Ptolemy let out a little laugh.

“You know what’s the best thing about all this? It’s actually Hephaestion served as a diversion, so Philip’s aide could spice up Alexander’s drink.”

Cleitus laughed heartily at that

“ _Of course_ he did. I guess he must have wanted some peace and quiet, right? It’s difficult to get that with Alexander hovering over your bed…”

They rejoined in their shared amusement for a few more minutes before calming down, Ptolemy growing somber again. The door to Hephaestion’s room was still slightly ajar and they could hear muted voices coming from it, a clear sign the physician wasn’t finished with his task.

Cleitus looked at the shadows painted on the walls, feeling somewhat detached from the scene and wondering what was going to happen. He had little doubts about the fact that Amyntoros would be back on his feet as soon as possible, but there was no denying that the walk through the desert had weakened him more than they had all expected.

And if someone decided to get rid of him now…

“Alexander has already given orders to reinforce the security in the palace,” Ptolemy said quietly, almost responding to his thoughts.

“You’re surprisingly well-informed, Ptolemy.”

His old friend shrugged.

“He called for me, earlier today.”

Cleitus raised an eyebrow.

“Have you been hovering in the corridor for all that time? That doesn’t sound like you.”

“I was a little worried,” Ptolemy admitted, looking at the door with a frown on his face. “Alexander wasn’t… well, you know how he gets when Hephaestion is injured, but I had never seen him like that before.”

Cleitus would have answered in jest, had been another occasion, but hidden between the shadows as they were, with voices that could still be heard from within the room, he let go of all pretense.

“We all know what his weak point is… some people might think he would be easier to control without Hephaestion, but…”

“They’re wrong,” Ptolemy said quietly, still looking at the door. “No one can control Alexander.”

ooOoo

Hephaestion awoke with a yawn, feeling a warm weight against his chest. He struggled a little before finally opening his eyes, waiting for a few seconds until he was used to the darkness of the room. The sun hadn’t started to rise yet and all candles had died out during his sleep, a telltale sign his pages had fallen asleep too.

Alexander was snoring against his shoulder, one arm thrown over his body in an effort to both hold and protect.

Hephaestion smiled a little at the sight before yawning loudly, uncaring about the way the sound was carrying out in the room. The atmosphere had changed compared to before he had fallen asleep – it was still hot and sticky and heavy, but there was an electricity in the air that made the hair on his arms rise up.

A storm was coming – and hopefully, thunder would break out and bring rain and wind with it, to cool off the air.

The gods knew they needed it.

Yawning a little, he turned his attention back onto the heavy, warm weight pressed against his side. His hand moved almost of its own volition and went to brush gently through Alexander’s soft hair, careful not to tug on it. It had been a long time since he had last had the opportunity to take some time for himself, watching his lover sleep at his side, and he meant to make the best out of it – although he knew the physician and his armada of pages would insist for him to rest, rather than to exert himself.

_Exert himself._

He had had to refrain himself from rolling his eyes when he had the advice – not that it was anybody’s business, to know what he was doing – or not doing – of his nights, but some people in the palace seemed to think he still had opportunities to _exert himself_.

Alexander and he hadn’t shared a bed in a long time, and he knew his enemies were gloating about it. Most of them thought it meant it would easy to replace him – in bed, it had been done already, but his political influence… His hold over Alexander…

(Although he was the only one being held right now, and he had the sneaking suspicion Alexander had snuggled even closer to him since he had started playing with his hair.)

Well, they all thought they could control Alexander and make sure he would follow their advice and suggestions, now that his position had changed, but it only showed they didn’t know their King half as well as they thought they did.

“You’re thinking too loud,” Alexander complained in a muffled voice, turning his head to the side so that they could see each other in the pale moonlight.

Hephaestion raised an eyebrow, smiling a little.

“And did that wake you up, my king?” he asked teasingly, still playing with Alexander’s hair.

“Your heartbeat picked up,” Alexander answered simply, readjusting himself so that he was now lying on his side, pressed against Hephaestion, hair easily accessible.

He moved his arm a little, making sure it wasn’t putting any pressure on Hephaestion’s stomach – something Hephaestion was grateful for, because he still felt sensitive… well, all over his body, and although the hold had been nice, it was also enjoyable not to have anything over him but the satin sheets.

“I can hardly believe it was enough to wake you up,” Hephaestion pointed out, still petting the glorious mane under his hand.

“It was,” Alexander answered seriously, looking at him with a somber.

He started drawing circles on Hephaestion’s stomach, fingers drifting over his ribs – he had lost a lot of weight in the Gedrosian desert, he knew that – before talking again.

“I was worried,” Alexander went on simply, taking in the paleness of his face, the dark bags under his lover’s eyes – oh, how they had dimmed over the years… and he hadn’t even noticed it.

So much for being the great Achilles, taking care of his Patroclus.

“Still am,” he added truthfully, watching Hephaestion’s every move.

He didn’t miss the flash of emotions on his lover’s face, the way his body suddenly tensed against his before relaxing, unreadable – to think that he used to read him like an open book…

“I’m fine,” Hephaestion said, before amending in front of the face he got. “I will be fine. That’s what the physician said, didn’t he? That there was no cause for trouble.”

“He said you would be fine if you were put on absolute rest for the next couple of weeks, at the very least,” Alexander reminded him, not amused by his lover’s selective memory in regards to his own health. “And I know you, Hephaestion. You would rule the entire empire from that bed if you’re forced to stay in it for too long.”

“Someone has to look after your administration, Alexander,” Hephaestion said in a soft voice, frowning a little.

He was tired and his body was aching all over again – and the air that was so heavy around them… when was it going to rain, by the gods?!

“You’re already overseeing everything,” Alexander grumbled. “And doing a fine job at it,” he added suddenly, still looking at him with a piercing gaze.

“Well, thank you, my king,” Hephaestion said in a dry voice that was softened by a little smile, petting Alexander’s hair again after having stopped for a few moments.

“And I’ll make sure everyone knows how important you are to the empire,” Alexander went on, not missing the shadow that appeared on his lover’s face. “And to me.”

Hephaestion hummed noncommittally, stopping his petting once again.

Alexander frowned.

“No?”

The moonlight was shining right over Hephaestion’s head, casting a ghostly look over him, making him feel uncomfortable.

Some faint rolling could be heard, far away, but he ignored it, too focused on his lover, who was staying silent – even moving away from him, readjusting himself on the bed so that they weren’t touching anymore.

“You know best what to do for your empire, Alexander,” finally came the answer, in a voice so low he almost didn’t hear it.

Alexander’s frown deepened.

“I know what to do because you make it happen,” he objected fiercely, stilling his hand over Hephaestion’s ribs.

There was still a faint scar from the battles of their youth – the wound had bled a lot but hadn’t been life-threatening, which Alexander had seen as a good omen for their future together on the battlefield.

And nothing had proved him wrong so far.

“We wouldn’t have come so far if it hadn’t been for you,” he went on, passion surging in his voice, forcing Hephaestion to look at him. “By the gods, we made it alive through the Gedrosian desert because of _you_ , and the resources you found for us.”

“Half of the army died,” Hephaestion pointed out in a tired voice.

The rolling was coming closer, bigger and louder, but they both ignored the noise.

“Half of it survived and we made it back here,” Alexander pointed out firmly. “You’re not going to say it amounts to nothing, right?”

A beat passed before Hephaestion answered.

“Of course not,” he murmured before looking away.

Alexander abated a little in front of his defeated attitude. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, not quite knowing what to say, before giving up and settling down against Hephaestion once again, softly kissing his shoulder before curling against him. Hephaestion didn’t say a word but started playing with his hair again, looking at the shadows painted over the walls in front of the bed.

They stayed silent for a moment, listening to the thunder coming closer until it finally broke out over the palace. The wind was loud but it was nothing compared to the heaviness of the rain falling down, so violent Alexander half-wondered if it wasn’t actually a hailstorm.

The first bolt of lightning made them flinch a little, reminded them of their less-than-pleasant time in the mountains, after they had left Babylon. They were familiar with thunderstorms – Macedonian’s weather could be less than agreeable, at times – but there was quite a difference between Pella and Babylon – and even farther east.

“I missed this,” Alexander finally said as the storm was raging, the temperature of the room dropping until it was more appreciable.

“Thunder?” Hephaestion enquired in a yawn, starting to fall asleep again.

Morpheus was calling to him, but it was also nice, sharing the secrets of the night with Alexander, and he didn’t want it to end so soon – not when he knew his king would go back to his duties in the morning, assured as he was that his illness was less worse than he had expected.

“No,” Alexander answered softly, holding him closer. “This. Us,” he said, gesturing at their entwined silhouettes.

“I didn’t forbid you to come to my bed,” Hephaestion pointed out, yawning again.

If he were to fall asleep in the middle of that particular conversation, it would be embarrassing – and probably counter-productive, if he was being honest.

“I know,” Alexander said quietly. “I’m sorry. I’ve missed you Hephaestion.”

“Missed you too,” Hephaestion answered, feeling his eyes close against his will.

The kiss was slightly unexpected and too short, but it felt nice nonetheless and he melted into the bed, smiling a little as Alexander was drawing the sheets higher on them.

“My Patroclus,” was whispered into his ear before he lost the fight against Morpheus, already asleep as Alexander kissed him chastely again before readjusting himself onto the bed, in a watchful position.

He had neglected his lover for too long, but he had time to make it better, now. They weren’t going to leave the palace until Hephaestion was in a better shape, and in the meantime, he would ample occasions to woo his lover and rekindle their relationship.

Yes, everything would be better now, Alexander pondered as the storm was raging over their heads. There was a bright future ahead of them, and plenty of new territories to discover and conquer. This was just the beginning – and they would do as they had always done, as two parts of a whole, sun and moon to bring a new age to the world.  

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always welcome :)


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